


Roadtrips and Memory Lane

by CravenWyvern



Series: DS Extras [31]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: ...maybe idk, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And everyone is still sort of getting used to that, Angst, Because this is not the Constant and the real world works differently, Camping, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Maxwell is a very grumpy old man, Past Character Death, Shipping If You Squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-28 07:32:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17178602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CravenWyvern/pseuds/CravenWyvern
Summary: Maxwell wanted nothing to do with camping or trips or anything like that at all.But Wilson was persistent, and talk of the children getting out into nature made a certain amount of sense.So Maxwell will do this for his neice and her friends. Hopefully nobody expected anything else from him.





	1. Chapter 1

The squealing of children filled the house, echoed and laughing, and Maxwell rubbed his eyes and hoped the headache he had didn't get worse.

He really, really didn't want to do this. The thought of a four, five hour drive, coupled with the three day camping trip was not appealing to him whatsoever. Who in their right mind would agree to such a taxing thing, especially in this mild, but still chilly winter?

Apparently, he had, though he hardly remembered it. Charlie attested as witness later, however, and quite frustratedly too, but that might have been because he had gone against what he had said he'd do and had made a mess of things. As usual.

He blamed that idiot Higgsbury, because that man had been the one to bring the drinks over to Charlie's little party.

Maxwell sat for a moment, head in his hands as he thought. Hell, he couldn't even remember what the damn party had been about, or for.

There was quiet in the house, for a moment, an almost blessing before he realized that it was quite suspicious, and with a groan Maxwell stood up, felt his back crack and limps protest at moving around, the cold air having seeped to his bones. Last night hadn't been fun either, though he had obviously taken it much easier. Having Charlie scold him about it earlier had made an impression, unfortunately.

Not to mention that the little firestarter had been hanging around and made some rather mean, nasty comments as well. He'd have called her out on it, but she's been doing rather well for herself as of late and he didn't want to insult Charlie's obvious friendship with her.

That red car that had been parked outside had attested to her new fortune, and he wondered idly if she'll be burning down buildings anytime soon. Funny, how averse she was to the idea now, when back then she'd celebrate the fiery death in her own way.

Taking the stairs down was a right chore, one he had complained of to Higgsbury but not to Charlie, because why would he even entertain the thought of complaining about someone's hospitality? It was a wonder than she even talked to him still, and that didn't even touch on the fact that she let him stay here at all.

But, as Maxwell has found, re entering a society decades past him was incredibly difficult. He'd not say impossible, if the mime and viking can do it so can he, but apparently the entertainment business was a lot more complicated than it had been back then. 

It didn't help that he had the strict responsibility of a child on him now. Wendy's father, unfortunately, had been long dead by the time they had gotten back here.

He would feel sad about it, and sometimes perhaps he was, but Wendy showed no remorse. The instant her mother had passed had been the moment she saw her father die as well, according to her anyways. Sometimes, when he sat with her on cold days and she felt more than overwhelmed, school and society and her dear sister quiet and slumbering in her wilting flower, she would lean against his arm and tell him that she liked it here.

He didn't know if he should believe her. Personally, he thought the Constant was much better, though not many of the others would agree with him.

Going down the steps in silence, the living room void of children and their little obnoxious plans, Maxwell turned to go to the kitchen, the next obvious place. He caught the faint pieces of whispers, giggles, and heaved a sigh as he rounded around to the dining room and its large, cleared table. Even with the tablecloth, with all its embroidery that Charlie fancied so much, he could see the faint movements of little hands and shoes sticking out every once in awhile.

“My, I wonder where the children went off too.” Maxwell drawled, rolling his eyes as the giggling rose up before a loud “shh” silenced them. “Perhaps they have gotten into something that they shouldn't have, and ran off to hide from me.”

They hushed at that, quiet, before there was a sudden ruckus, of “No Webber, don't-” and “TIS A TRAP, YOU SEEK TO OUST US-” before someone's head poked out from under the cloth, looking up at Maxwell with round eyes.

“We're not hiding from you, Mister Maxwell, we're just looking at the-” 

There was a struggle, as someone under the table tried to drag the child back, but he wiggled right out of their grip, scrambling to Maxwell's legs to hide behind. Maxwell raised an eyebrow at that, about ready to scold the lot of them for horsing around under the table, but Webber spoke up before he could.

“We're looking at the Codex, Mister Maxwell! An’ it's not showing us anything!”

He sighed at that, watched as there was a hissing from underneath the table, his niece finally crawling out as well, book in hand. She glared at Webber for a moment, before the last child poked her head out from the tablecloth next to her.

“TIS NOT TRUE, WE HAVE NO SUCH BOOK!”

Wendy, after a moment of silence, glanced to her before discreetly hiding the book behind her back.

“You shouldn't lie, Wilba!” Webber pipped up, still clinging to Maxwell's leg. “We went and snatched it up, and you said it was like taking cake from a baby!”

“CANDY!” Wilba snorted, and she struggled out from under the table, puffing up her chest as she stood next to Wendy, short and sturdy but completely opposite to Wendy's thin, tall stance. “TWAS LIKE CANDY FROM THE BABE, WILBA TOOK WITH EASE!”

“I thought you said you did not have the book.” Maxwell crossed his arms, looked down at the little girl, her red curls loose and slightly ruffled from the static. 

Wilba looked stricken for a moment, glancing at Wendy for assurance as her own words came back to bite her. 

His niece sighed, not meeting his eye as she came to a decision and raised up her hand, offering back the thick, black tome.

“Webber spoke true; the Codex had nothing to say.” 

“I would hope not.” Maxwell took the book in hand, turned it to make sure nothing had scuffed it, the red emblem long gone now. It had always detested the marking, so he supposed it felt all the better to have it gone now.

Even if it stayed deathly silent now.

“Webber.” The little kid looked up at him, still clinging to his leg, and it would always be surprising to not see all those eyes blinking anymore, just the two. From what he's heard from Wilson, the transition had been a hard one; the child wasn't used to being alone like this, and adjusting to having that part split away had been a long and hard process. “If you are here, Higgsbury is as well. When did you two arrive?”

“Only a bit ago!” Webber finally untangled himself, standing up and looking up at Maxwell with a grin. It seemed, even human, the child had a hard time remembering they didn't have to smile all the time. “Wendy let us in and said you hadn't even packed yet, so Mister Wilson is outside with the car getting it ready!” 

Maxwell frowned at that, leveled a look at his niece, who was ignoring him and whispering to Wilba, who nodded her head sagely at her every word.

“We should be ready enough, there is no need for more packing.” Maxwell thought about putting the Codex away, he hadn't intended to bring it along with him in any way, but after a moment he made a different decision.

“Webber, since you've shown how trustworthy you can be…” He handed over the book to the kid, who took it with round eyes. There was a moment of protest from Wilba, stomping her foot, but Wendy hushed her up, probably already figuring it all out.

It wasn't that hard. He just didn't want to walk all the way upstairs, just to walk all the way back down again.

It was a question of whether he cared more for the empty, silent book being poked and prodded at, or if he wanted his body to ache more than it already did. His niece obviously knew what he favored.

“Wendy, make sure you have what you need. Wilba, get your bags ready. It would be best if we leave as soon as we can.”

Wendy nodded, her only answer as she walked to the stairs and her room, Webber trotting after her with the book in hand, and Wilba huffed a loud “YES!” before dashing off to find her own packed things. 

Her mother had dropped her off with far more than one would normally take to a camping trip, and while he had smiled and nodded to the large woman, promising she'd be safe and well taken care of, Maxwell had thinned the bags a bit so that the car could at the very least hold its driver along with Wilba and the others.

Higgsbury hadn't been the happiest, knowing that there would be another for the ride, but Maxwell owed the woman and if she wished to cash in by having him be babysitter for a bit, then so be it. It was better than dealing with her husband, at the very least.

Funny, how the pigs there were still the same here. At least her uncle wasn't coming along; Pugna was a right pain to deal with, along with the whole entourage that followed him.

Maxwell vaguely wondered why Wilbas mother hadn't made Pugna take her for the few days.

Oh well.

With the kids getting ready, and him being at the very least dressed, Maxwell heaved a sigh and went outside, the cold chill of early morning still heavy, to find the man who had thought up this horrid idea in the first place. Or, more particularly, convinced him that it was a good idea at all.

As if Maxwell wanted to camp more than he already has in his much too long life. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of was how it felt waking up in a cold tent surrounded by people he didn't particularly like.

But, at least this time there was only the children and Higgsbury. He could deal with that, at the very least.

Wilson was, indeed, at the car, attempting to close the stuffed trunk with a few choice curse words mixed in. For a moment, Maxwell stood back and watched the short man huff and grumble.

All the work the Constant has put into the man, wasted now. From what he's heard, Higgsbury was trying to get himself back into the shape he had been, more tough sinew than anything else, but this time period seemed to make such things harder. Especially with how the food had changed so drastically; it was more like the Quagmire here, with how fast one can get something to eat nowadays.

But, perhaps it wasn't all that bad a change. Higgsbury didn't have those scowl lines nearly as set in as they had been there, and he certainly looked healthier as well, had more of the correct weight on him. Everyone did, now that Maxwell thought of it. Webber and Wendy didn't have that stunted look about them from malnutrition or starvation and stress, and Charlie absolutely glowed at times, even as her age started to catch up with her.

She had been surprised, to find silver hairs the first time. Maxwell supposed they all had, realizing time was moving now and couldn't be stopped.

It was…sort of saddening to think about. Attending Wickerbottoms funeral had given him a lot to think about, and she hadn't been much older than him, ten years at most.

It had been a quiet affair; apparently, her family had died out a few generations after her, so it was only those who knew her from the other world who had attended. From what he heard, Wolfgang had adopted her cats, and her books had been given to the local library.

Not all of them agreed with that, him included; the magic may be gone, but who knew when it could come back. No one wanted a swarm of tentacles to take over a public building anytime soon.

Wilson swore loudly, drew him out of his thoughts, and with that Maxwell walked over, put a hand on the trunks door, and slammed it down.

“I hadn't thought a gentleman like you would have such foul language, Higgsbury.”

“Don't start that, these cars are always too damn big.”

Maxwell grinned as Wilson glowered at him.

“I would think they had been made perfectly normal, just the right height really.”

Wilson didn't even offer him a response to that, seemed to be internally debating on whether he should kick him or not, before heaving out a sigh and letting it go.

“Wendy told me you guys aren't even ready.”

“We are ready enough.” Maxwell waved a hand, eyed the inside of the car as they passed by, walking back to the house. “I told them to get their things ready, I know you don't like it when leaving takes so much time.”

“It's better to leave early, not as much traffic.”

Maxwell paused at the door for a moment, giving the short man a look. 

“Who do you expect to be driving, hm?”

“Me, of course.” Wilson looked rather certain of that. “I know the route.”

“And _I_ am not wasting that flimsy bit of paper that I finally got a hold of. I am driving.”

“For what, four hours in total?”

Maxwell crossed his arms, huffing irritably.

“If I have to, of course.”

“You've been at it for, what, a few weeks? I can't just trust a car full of kids to you this early, you know.”

“Compared to your few months?” Maxwell was a bit bitter that everyone else had seemed to get the idea of driving far earlier than he had. For a moment they held gazes, Maxwell glowering and Wilson scowling, before the other man's eyes lit up with an idea.

“Look, let me drive first.” At Maxwell's frown deepening he waved his hand, continuing. “I'll get us out of the city, and after a few hours you can drive for a bit. That sounds reasonable, right?”

Maxwell pondered on the idea for a moment, still a bit unwilling to back down, before the front door squealed open and Webber shot through like a bullet.

“Mister Wilson!” The child wrapped his arms about the short man, bouncing up and down excitedly. “We're all ready, Wendy is ready, Wilba is ready, let's go let's go!”

Wilba trotted out behind him, big duffel bags held at her sides, and the girl puffed up, blinking at Wilson with a buck toothed smile on her face. 

“WE SHALL GO OUT INTO UNKNOWN, AND WILBA IS READY!”

Webber let go of Wilson, going to hop next to Wilba as she snorted and started speaking to him in another language, the child nodding his head excitedly as he listened.

Wilson leaned towards Maxwell, voice lowered, though it wasn't much of an issue with Wilbas volume.

“Is that...pig Latin?”

Maxwell nodded, watched as Webbers own hesitant stuttered voice answered Wilba back, the kid still trying to learn the language.

“Her mother seems to think it is better to learn than true Latin, or any other language available.”

Wilson laughed at that, a quiet chuckle as he shook his head.

Before anything else could be done, Wendy appeared from.the front door, closing it carefully behind her, a backpack on one shoulder and a smaller bag in her free hand. Her other held Abigail's flower, clutched close to her chest, and her eyes were set downwards, obviously thinking of other things than the trip ahead.

At least, until she realized Wilson was there.

Maxwell wouldn't be lying by the fact that it did make him happy that she lit up a bit, looked the short man in the eye as she walked over, certainly much more light hearted. Sometimes, he wondered in if it would have been better had the man taken bother her and Webber to raise instead.

But it would have been overwhelming, and certainly unfair. Maxwell was her uncle, and he had the responsibility of one in this world.

The true world, and it wasn't quite misery he felt at that but he did feel very tired. The Constant had, funnily enough, been much kinder to him.

Wilson looked surprised when the girl gave him a hug, brief and quick, but he smiled as she pulled back to let Abigail get a similar greeting, saying hello to the both of them, asking if they were ready for a bit of camping.

And, as he eyed Abigail, perhaps a bit of trapping as well. The squirrels were apparently still plentiful at this time in the year.

That seemed to give the spark that was needed, and Wendy hurriedly broke up Webber and Wilbas conversation, the newly learned pig Latin still hesitant in her voice, but Maxwell was careful to not flinch as Webber squealed in excitement, babbling about seeing Abigail again as the two raced to the car, Wendy a bit slower behind them.

“...Did you plan this all along?”

Wilson was still smiling, watching the kids as they shoved their things in and started to bicker about which seat was theirs. The car could hold five people, two in front, three in back, and it looked like Webber was going to sit in the middle of the two girls.

“Not really, but I know there are not that many opportunities to have her came back, so it's an added bonus.”

Maxwell sighed, arms still crossed, but he didn't feel as irritable anymore. 

A bit tired, maybe, but that was the usual when dealing with plans he didn't fully like. The camping may help the children, especially with getting out of the house and out of the city, but he wasn't quite looking forward to it.

There was a touch on his arm, Wilson bumping him with his shoulder for a moment, a brief touch on his wrist, before the short man pulled away just as quickly as it had happened.

“I know it's not what you wanted to spend these days off on, but it'll be fun, you'll see.” Wilson's smile hadn't left his face, not completely, only softened a bit. “And Charlie's been telling me that you need to get out of the house way more than you currently do. Being out of the city will help, and time isn't stopping anytime soon.”

Maxwell couldn't find an answer to that, still a bit distracted perhaps, and with that Wilson started off to the car, waving at him.

“Come on, the traffic won't be bad for at least another thirty minutes. And, like I said, I'll drive a few hours and then you can have a turn.”

Maxwell huffed at that, straightened up, as if they were children and _needed_ to take turns, but he knew Wilson was right either way.

As he followed the man, getting into the passenger's seat and then having to turn and tell Wilba to quiet herself a bit, she was getting rowdy, especially with Webbers excited chatter, Maxwell couldn't help but let himself hope that Wilson was right, that this trip would help out a bit.

He was a patient man, but this world, this true world, wasn't like the Constant. It wasn't going to wait for him to get things in order, and soon enough he'll be sharing the cold earth with old Wickerbottom and his long dead brother.

He didn't like it, but nowadays Wilson was practically always right. Time wasn't stopping anytime soon, and neither were the children in the back seat, nor the man beside him, turning the car on and getting it warmed up to help chase the chill away. 

Maxwell supposed he shouldn't either.


	2. Chapter 2

“Mister Wilson?”

“Yes?”

“We need to go to the restroom…”

Maxwell hissed out a sigh, rubbed his eyes as Wilson made a noise next to him, eyes on the road and all.

“We were just at a gas station, Webber, why didn't you go then?”

“We didn't need to go then…”

“WILBA NEEDS TO GO TOO!”

It's only been an hour, Maxwell thought, only an hour. They've just barely left the outskirts of the city, had stopped a moment to buy water and few snacks, and it was already dragging at his nerves.

“But Wilba, we thought you went already…”

“WILBA HAD GATOR-AID, I MUST USE THE RESTROOM AT ONCE!”

Wilson sighed, and Maxwell sat slumped in his seat for a moment before struggling to sit up straight once more. The damn seat belt gave him trouble, tugging on the restrictive thing in irritation as he fought off the claustrophobic feeling rising within him.

Stupid memories, and damn this car. Why did Wilson even buy it, it was useless and agitating, not even comfortable to sit in-

“Alright, I'll take the next exit, do you think you guys can hold it until then?” Wilson looked to the rearview mirror, ignoring Maxwells obvious irritation. “Only half a mile to get there, so we'll be there soon. Maxwell, if you keep tugging on that it'll-”

There was an audible click, and very suddenly the damn seat belt became practically impossible to move.

“-lock.” Wilson finished, another heaved sigh, and Maxwell stubbornly ignored him, crossing his arms and pushing away the tight feeling the belt was causing over his chest.

It was one of the few things he'd never get over when it came to cars, but having done it a few times now at least he won't panic. That first time in a car with Charlie had been...stressful.

Not the proudest moment in this new life to remember, and Maxwell might have been pouting at this point, glaring at the mostly empty road ahead.

As Wilba started up again about the “gator-aid’, Webber humming uncomfortably and Wendy as quiet as ever, he again wondered why he had ever agreed to this horrid, ill planned idea.

So far, it was putting more stress on him than not, and hadn't that been a big point as to why he agreed?

…Maxwell couldn't remember all too well, and that was pissing him off.

***

_“You've lost your mind, Higgsbury, why the ever loving heck would you even want to go camping?”_

_Charlie snorted at his side, shaking her head, but Maxwell was more interested in an answer to his question. The short man sat on the couch opposite of their own, still nibbling on the cookies someone else had brought around, probably Wolfgang's from how carefully decorated they were. The strongman seemed to have gained a more focused interest on food after playing chef in the Quagmire, but no one was complaining._

_Especially not Wilson, since he seemed to have eaten a little more than half the plate in one sitting. Maxwell did consider yelling at him about that, for god's sake those were meant for everyone not the greedy little man, but he had other things to argue about in mind._

_“I'd have thought you'd have shrugged off any interest in nature and all that after-” he waved his hand, wincing a moment as he cut off the words in his throat for the sake of being polite, “-after all of that mess. What in the world made you think this up?”_

_“Don't be like that, as if I hate the outdoors because of past experience.” Wilson seemed particularly unbothered, irritating Maxwell a bit, but he didn't respond, instead taking a sip of...whatever this stuff in his cup was. It was not at all what he was used to, but then again, the Constant apparently had gotten behind the times when it came to drinks. Or, at least, lacked creativity. Whatever Wilson had brought along, it was certainly an odd color._

_“I don't mean to be rude, but the idea doesn't interest me in the slightest.” Charlie spoke clearly, sitting straight and not really partaking in her own parties refreshments, and Maxwell huffed quietly at that, internally agreeing._

_Once upon a time, he'd have sat closer to her. Once upon a time, he wore a different name and had way too many people assume their connection, and once upon a time the both of them had laughed at that, the gossip and fun it had all been._

_“Oh, it's alright Charlie, I'm not making anyone come if they don't want to, and I do intend to keep it a small thing.” Wilson waved his hand, finally finished the cookie he had, and reached for his own cup._

_Which was fuller than Maxwells own, Maxwell thought irritably. He didn't even know why he was getting so frustrated feeling, but just the mere mention of camping, of all things, brought back all too ugly memories. As if he wanted to remember the Constant more than he already did._

_“But Webber did want to see if a few of their friends could come along.” He turned to give a look at Maxwell, who was most certainly not brooding even if he looked like it. “They haven't made many friends in school so far, so I did want to ask Wendy if she wished to attend our little vacation of sorts.”_

_“I, of course, can't speak for her-” Maxwell grumbled back, “-but I, personally, want nothing to do with it. As if spending the weekend off in the woods is exactly what I want to waste my time with.”_

_“Compared to what?” Charlie leveled her gaze back to him, and he really, really couldn't tell if there was steel in her voice or not, instead looking away as she continued. “I'm not staying here, Maxwell, I have arrangements with my sister, so the house will be empty.”_

_“So be it. It is not as if I can't take care of myself, and I'm sure Wendy will be entertained with-” he made a gesture towards Wilson, still not looking to either of them and instead towards where the kitchen was, “-with whatever you decide to do out there, I truly don't care.”_

_He could see Wes in there, hands flashing and dancing about as he spoke to Wolfgang, the man not nearly as big as he used to get but still looking comically out of place with his height and weight._

_“I don't quite think that is such a good idea…” Charlie spoke softly, quietly, probably not meant to be directed at him, but Maxwell straightened up from how he had been laying slouched on the couch, turning a glare towards her._

_“What, you don't trust me with your house? I am not the firestarter, I certainly won't burn the place down.”_

_“That is not what I am afraid of.” She spoke with such certainty, bluntly even, eyes cold as she stared him down in turn, and Maxwell quickly quelled and looked away, shifting in badly hidden nervousness._

_She may not be a Queen here, but the aura held; Charlie had learned more than she let on from the shadows, and Maxwell still envied and feared her for it. He'd not admit such things, especially to her face, and it irked him greatly because of it._

_As if he should be so easily handled by a former Queen! Then again, he was essentially renting a room in her home, and by extension so was Wendy. The woman could kick him out with little to no notice, and he'd not be offended in the least by it, nor very surprised._

_There was silence between the three of them, only Wolfgang's loud guffaws of laughter from the kitchen, which quickly hushed as Wes reminded him of the sleeping children upstairs. Maxwell glowered at his drink, and wondered how offended Wilson would be if he dumped it out before sipping at it again in spite._

_“This is...disgusting.”_

_“Then why are you drinking it?” If Wilson had been more dressed up, perhaps in that fancy get up he once had, black suited him quite nicely apparently, he might have looked classy, sitting back on the couch so. “I think it's quite interesting tasting.”_

_“I haven't tried it yet, what is it Wilson?” Charlie's voice was normal again, softer as she addressed the other man, and Maxwell was ignored as he huffed to himself._

_“Vodka, I think. Never had it with this color before, so I wanted to try it. Might be mixed with a few other things though, I haven't had the time to read all that small print.”_

_“I much prefer wine.” Maxwell grumbled, making a face as he nursed his drink, still avoiding eye contact._

_“Then you should have bought some.” Wilson retorted, but he didn't sound irritated in the least. “But, back to what I was saying. If Wendy could come along, that would be great, but I'd rather not be out there alone with the two. Some help would be nice.”_

_Maxwell could feel two pairs of eyes staring at him, which he staunchly ignored, glaring at his cup instead._

_Wilson was right, why was he still drinking it? It was disgusting._

_“...And why not ask the mime or strongman?” He finally broke, waved a hand towards where the two of them were, seated in the kitchen in their own conversation. Probably had nothing to do with camping or drinks or any such nonsense in their talking, and he might have envied them in the fact that they were not being bothered as much as him. “Or, I suppose, why not the firestarter, the viking? There are others that would probably jump at the chance to frolic around a dark forest for a few days, I'm sure.”_

_Before they could answer he rubbed at his eyes, sinking back into the couch as he sighed._

_“Heck, even the librarian would probably leap at the chance for ‘nature’ and all the like; this city doesn't seem too much to her liking.”_

_The silence after was a bit different, and Maxwell looked over as Wilson frowned at him, looking…not quite uneasy but something different. He should be able to pinpoint it by now, but the alcohol was muddling his thoughts and right now all he wanted was to ignore everything and lay down somewhere dark and quiet._

_“Maxwell, perhaps you should retire.” Charlie spoke quietly, not looking at him, hands folded in her lap._

_But now that it was even suggested to him suddenly Maxwell did not, in fact, want to go to bed. He'd much rather just sit here, thank you very much, and ignore everything that way._

_And that wasn't because he didn't want to get up or that he felt a bit queasy in the back of his mind. It was because of something different, but he hadn't quite thought up an excuse just yet._

_“You know I'm right, the others long for all that-” he waved his hand, not quite getting the words out but getting the meaning across otherwise, “-and the old woman was bothering me a while back about it all. As if the Codex would send anyone back, even if it ever could; it's laughable. Go bother her about camping, not me.”_

_He glared at his drink one more time, sipping it and regretting the fact that he had even tried once more, before just setting it to the table, finally wanting nothing else to do with it. His gut was not going to be happy come tomorrow, not with the cup being much more than half empty, and certainly not with the fact that he had already had more than one. The other two's silence was getting on his nerves now, and he crossed his arms, glowering at nothing in particular._

_He wondered on if he could convince Charlie into not inviting Wilson along anymore, but it was a stupid idea. She obvious favored the man, even back in the Constant, and she probably enjoyed the way he talked and what he talked about, science this and opinion that and even more bias this. Even if he brought up idiotic ideas like camping or hours gone by in that crowded car of his, for some reason his talking about anything, anything at all, was interesting to hear and listen to, something to distract the mind._

_So obviously Charlie had him around, almost as often as Wes, and obviously she'd find his company much better than Maxwells. Hell, Higgsbury had gotten onto his feet real quick, hadn't he, even with the fact that the time period was much farther ahead than any of them could have guessed. The man was much too adaptable, and it irked Maxwell that he even knew how to help others get used to it all. Webber had been distressed beyond belief when the portal had thrown them all out, and yet a few months later Wilson had the child all accustomed to this place._

_Hell, as if Maxwell favored this horridly new scenery. He'd have much rather be returned to where he had been, or, better yet, not at all! The Constant was much easier to understand in his opinion, and in some ways much more forgiving._

_“Well, I suppose I could ask someone else.” Wilson wasn't looking at him anymore, brow furrowed and looking in thought, distracted. “Though, do you think anyone else could look after Wendy well enough?”_

_There was something in the other man's voice, almost sneaky, that made Maxwell narrow his eyes, and he might be slurring a bit but he still was paying the utmost attention to whatever the short man was planning, most certainly._

_“Obviously, Higgsbury, obviously. Who best to watch the children then you?” He meant to sneer at the end of that, but gave up halfway, closing his eyes as he waved vaguely at the other man. “I believe Wendy trusts you enough, doesn't she?”_

_“I guess…” Wilson might have sounded a bit surprised, but Maxwell cast that aside because, at the moment, he didn't really care. He wondered on if he should start getting annoyed, but now he was just tired. Maybe he should have listened to Charlie's suggestion._

_“But what of the others? Do you trust Wendy with, say, Wigfrid?”_

_The thought took a moment to process, but when it did he snapped his eyes open to glare at the short man._

_“Why in the...I didn't suggest the viking, did I?” He couldn't remember right now, but it was irritating that Wilson even suggested the idea to him. “As if I want that mad woman near my niece! Pick someone else, and don't be a daft fool!”_

_He might have risen his voice a moment, but quieted when Charlie laid her hand on his shoulder, leveling a look to Wilson. But the other man met her gaze, and didn't at all seem perturbed as Maxwell struggled to sit up a bit straighter, Charlie pulling away silently._

_“Well, who do you suggest then, Maxwell?” That sly look was in his eyes again, Wilsons face quirking with a small smile. “I could bring Willow, but we'd be surrounded by a very flammable forest. Oh, or maybe Wolfgang, but how long would our supplies last? There's a full moon out this weekend, though I suppose asking Woodie wouldn't be out of the question if you want me to, and WX78 could come along but do you really think they'd be helpful in a car full of children?”_

_Wilson stared at him, that sneaky look still in his eyes even as he smiled at Maxwell as if all his suggestions were not, in fact, distressing him greatly._

_“I could call up Walani, she likes Wendy but I know your opinion of her is certainly lacking, or maybe I could just ask Wes, he's working those days but I could just get up and ask, do you want me to-”_

_“Fine, fine!” Maxwell snapped, throwing his hands up and then having to close his eyes because he had just gotten a bit dizzy. “So the others are not nearly good enough to come along, I get it, I'll do what needs to be bloody done, damn it all!”_

_“I never said that.” Wilson pointed out, making Maxwell squint at him with a hard scowl on his face. “But, you are going to come then?”_

_“What did I just say, Higgsbury? I'm coming along because apparently no one else can do such a simple thing as watch children for a few days, and that's final.”_

_Wilson smiled at him, not quite relief and more like cheeky victory while Maxwell crossed his arms about his chest and frowned, slouching back into the couch, a bit light headed and irritated._

_“That's great! It's all I needed to hear, Maxwell, thank you.”_

_Charlie cleared her throat, looking between the two of them, looking not a bit bothered whatsoever and more amused._

_“Then it's all settled, and I think it's time the party ends, Wilson. I do have to get up early tomorrow.”_

_“Oh, sorry, I apologize then. I hadn't meant to draw this out.”_

_“It's fine, Wilson, it's fine.”_

_Maxwell stubbornly ignored the both of them as they went about pleasantries and all that polite chatter, gathering the two from the kitchen to conclude and say their goodbyes, his own mind seething with all the suggestions Higgsbury had thought up._

_What an imbecile! As if any of the others could be trusted out in the woods with the small, arguably gullible man and two easy to convince children! This wasn't the Constant, mistakes can not be made willy nilly, and out of all of them Maxwell had decided right then and there to consider himself the much more sensible one. Wilson shouldn't even consider the others for a camping trip, let them rot in this damn city for all he cared!_

_He'll be the one out there with Wilson, not them! The thought did send away a bit of those irritated feelings, almost made him chuckle had he not been feeling a bit ill now, eyes closed as he vaguely heard Wolfgang give his goodbye, no doubt Wes signing his own as well, Charlie's polite voice muffled and quiet with the rest of it all._

_Now that he thought about it, perhaps he shouldn't have drank so much of that stuff. It was far too disgusting for him to have even considered._

_But Wilson had seemed to like it, which was a bit distressing. How could such a man even want to drink that colorful swill?_

_Maxwells mind might have slowly wandered off on another tangent had he not felt a hand on his shoulder, jolting him from his musings and blinking blurrily at the one getting his attention._

_It was Wilson, and the man smiled at him, this time in relief._

_“Thank you, again, Maxwell. I do appreciate you coming along, and I think Wendy will be happier for it as well.”_

_Maxwell didn't have a reply for a moment, feeling a bit dizzy because, right now, that smile looked rather nice and Wilson certainly looked nice and, all in all, the other man just being right there, right now, made him feel a bit better about things._

_When he finally did spit out the words he was certainly slurring, stumbled over them getting out of his mouth, and it didn't at all make him happy but he had to close his eyes because the bright lights were going to make him sick if he didn't._

_“It's, it's fine, Wilson. Of course I'd come along, yes, if you ask me to.” He forced himself to open his eyes again, to at least catch the man smiling at him one more time, and Wilson was, which was nice._

_Really nice, in fact. It made Maxwell feel better, which was good because his gut was certainly not feeling all that great at the moment, and neither was the headache creeping in the back of his brain._

_“Alright, I'll see you then.”_

_Wilson pulled away as he spoke, which seemed to be less nice, but Maxwell nodded his head, closed his eyes, humming in answer because he felt very light headed now. He'd rather that feeling to continue, but he can't make that happen, so the other man left to go give Charlie his goodbyes._

_He'd much rather sleep now, actually. And right here, so he wouldn't have to move about too much. And also before Charlie got back over here and made him move upstairs to bed._

_So Maxwell promptly passed out._

***

“Max? Maxwell, get up.”

Maxwell jolted awake with a snort, the damn seat belt tightening for a moment before loosening up so that he could sit forward a bit, and he squinted in confusion at the dusk that was slowly crawling into night.

What time was it, and why were they not at their destination?

“You snore, did you know that?” 

There was a poke at his shoulder, Wilson still in the driver's seat, and Maxwell blinked away the blurriness of sleep, rubbing his eyes as he realized the car wasn't moving. The lights of a gas station glowed clear white outside, bright, though it looked rather empty.

“Where in the world are we?” His voice was hoarse, and Maxwell took a moment to glance at the little glowing clock that the car had, staring at it in confusion for a moment. “And why are we not there yet?”

“Had to take a detour. I was going to tell you at the time but you were pretty dead to the world, so I thought I'd let you sleep.”

“A detour…” Maxwell repeated, still a bit sluggish, and Wilson poked at him again, offering him a water bottle, which he took with a huff of appreciation. “And how long will that take, then?”

“It's added on a few more hours, that's for sure.” Wilson sighed, twisting to look behind him, and Maxwell glanced at the rearview mirror before remembering that it was adjusted for the other man's height and that he couldn't actually see anything in it. “Thankfully the kids fell asleep. I think Wilba was starting to get anxious, and Webber was getting car sick too.”

“Great.” Maxwell rubbed at his face, not quite irritated but a little frustrated now at the thought that he had to sit in this car for even longer now. “That's wonderful, Higgsbury, just wonderful.”

“It's not that bad, you know. What was that saying, it's the journey that counts, not the destination?” Wilson turned back to look at him, and Maxwell wondered on if he should correct the man; that wasn't how that saying went, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what it actually was. “I've already been driving for a bit, so we are actually almost there. You've missed most of it.”

It took a moment, Maxwell heaving a sigh as the ramifications of a few more hours settled into his brain, but the click of a seatbelt and then the car opening caught his attention, Wilson stepping out without warning. Maxwell stared, before fidgeting with his own seatbelt, huffing as it gave him trouble before finally letting him go, and when he opened the car door to a heavy chill he almost considered just closing it. With the car still on, the soft chug of its engine as it heated the inside, the silence outside was almost deafening.

Besides the buzzing of the stations lights, Maxwell leveling a minor glare up at one. For a moment, it had almost reminded him of elsewhere.

There was a thud as Wilson closed his door, and Maxwell stood, using his own as support as feeling came back to his legs. It was probably a good thing to stretch, after who knows how long he's been sleeping.

The sun was gone now, only the faint glow of its descent now fading away, and out this far from the city Maxwell could see a few stars up there, steadily growing in number.

It made him a little sad, to not recognize them. The Constants sky had been much more chaotic, uncontrollable, but it had become a familiar one. 

It was odd, to recognize that the real world was now an alien one to him.

“We drove through a gorge, a big one. Scared Wilba a bit with how close to the edge we were at one point.” 

Wilson was looking to the sky as well, not quite a frown on his face, not a scowl, something much lighter. He did look tired, however; Maxwell supposed that driving for as long as he had been asleep probably caused that.

“Do you know how unnerving it is, to have Wendy ask me what would happen if the car happened to swerve off the road and out into open space?”

“And what did you tell her?” Maxwell finally closed the car door, leaning more fully on the car itself for support, the cold chill really starting to wake him up now.

“That it would crash, probably burn up or explode, and that we'd all die.”

“What a comforting thing to tell a child.”

“I'm being sarcastic, Maxwell, I wouldn't tell her that!” Wilson looked over at him, voice not harsh nor frowning. “I told her that I wouldn't let that happen.”

“Of course, of course.”

For a moment they both lapsed into silence, Maxwell watching the faint light of day finally fade away completely, the sky now brimming with unfamiliar constellations. He remembered having an interest in them, once, when he had been younger, but it had faded long ago. 

“Hey, I can see the Big Dipper.” Wilson had moved, up to the front of the car, and he pointed upwards, to a clustering of stars Maxwell hardly recognized. “Haven't seen that in awhile, actually.”

Maxwell hummed in response, tested balancing for a moment on his numbing legs before making his way to the front as well, squinting up at the sky and all its blurry little lights.

“I kinda regret living in the city, you know.” Wilsons voice was quieter, as he stared up at the sky, and Maxwell frowned, glancing at the man before looking out to where the road headed. They weren't quite in a forested area, speckled with a few trees, but much of it seemed empty, packed earth. Probably for development of some sort, he thought to himself, the faint yellow from the reflectors the only thing to truly see as darkness crashed in. 

“Can't see the stars as well there, and I have to admit that I do miss living outdoors. That's not a bad thing, right?”

It was funny, how empty it felt now, how alone. No one was watching him, now, and he suspected that They never will again.

“But Webber needs more than that, and I'm guessing Wendy does as well.”

Maxwell glanced over to see Wilson watching him, and he heaved a sigh, clasping his hands together as he fought the cold induced shivers creeping up his spine.

“It certainly seems so.”

Not much of an assertive answer, but there wasn't much else to be said that hasn't already been talked over. A few years doesn't change the conclusions they've all come to.

“...Do you miss it?” Wilson sounded hesitant, quiet, and Maxwell looked away, grit his teeth as his hands tightened over each other, the leather of his gloves growing cold.

“Miss what, Higgsbury?”

There was no answer, silence, and the faint thread of anger that had sparked in him faded out, crushed by the cold emptiness of the night. The buzzing of the stations lights continued on, unhindered, all too bright really, and Maxwell wondered where, exactly, this little dump of a place was situated, and why Wilson had decided to stop here of all places.

There were no sounds out there, in the darkness, no vague movement or the feeling of goosebumps or the hair on the back of his neck standing up, and Maxwell wondered how long it would take before he stopped missing it all.

“No, no I don't.”

Maxwell stood up, voice hard and arms crossed over his chest, and he leveled a scowl at the other, shorter man.

“I suppose I will drive the rest of the way, then?”

Wilson stood up as well, stretched his arms above his head before heaving a sigh and rolling his shoulders.

“It's not far, so I'll be able to give you the directions.”

Maxwell had already made his way over to the front seat, opening up the door to a puff of warmer air, the lights flickering on as he climbed in. The other man took a bit longer, Maxwell watching as he looked to the sky one more time, before he got into the passenger seat.

“Don't you have a map or something?” He waved to where Wilsons phone was, set in the cup holder and dark, and the other man buckled himself up, taking the device in his hands and fiddling with it.

He did remind Maxwell of the seatbelt, which he eyed with distaste but unfortunately had to put on, tugging it briefly from his chest before stuttering out a tense sigh and making himself leave it be. Have it clamp up on him right now really wouldn't do him any good.

It was still a new thing, this whole concept of ‘driving’, especially since Charlie had only one car and she used that more often than him, so glancing around the damn small space and trying to remember what did what and why he should care was a little irritating, but it had to be done if he was to be using the vehicle for the next few hours or so. Wilson had pulled up the seat way too far, and Maxwell huffed as he fiddled with the damn buttons and levers and whatever else that complicated it all up, before finally figuring out how to make it go back and allow his legs room.

“Careful, Wilba’s behind you.”

He glared at Wilson for a moment, who gave him only a glance before turning his attention back to his phone, and then Maxwell noticed the turned down rearview mirror and the fact that he couldn't see and damn thing in it.

Adjusting it to his height, and then poking it a bit to make sure it was not sagging or doing anything else he didn't want it to do, Maxwell stilled a moment as he caught sight of what it showed.

The three children were still asleep, Webbers head tilted back and drooling most certainly, hands in his lap. Wendy leaned against the child, hair cascaded down her face, Wilba sagging against the car door as she snorted, holding tight to one of her lighter packed bags. In Wendys lap was Abigail, the flower quiet and still, one of the girls hands cupping it protectively even in her sleep.

...It has been awhile since he's seen them all so relaxed.

“Alright, I think we only have an hour or so to go, and it's mostly straight ahead.”

Wilson got his attention by putting the phone back in its cup holder, bright screen dimmed a bit as the lights in the car faded off, and Maxwell squinted down at the odd thing.

Electronic maps on devices that can fit in your palm. It was still taking him some time to get used to.

It had a big blue arrow point, and a blue path highlighted forward, and he could already guess that was what he was to follow.

“I don't want to wake the kids, so it is muted. I'll help direct you to where to go.”

“That is unnecessary, Higgsbury.” Maxwell fiddled a bit more, found the parking brake and thus getting the car into order, glancing down to make sure he had his feet in the right places. He had to squint a bit in the stations bright lights outside, but slowly the cars wheels started turning, off rough asphalt to gravel and then back to smooth road, glancing at the phone a moment before turning the car and getting it on the road. “I can read a map perfectly fine, thank you very much.”

The other man was quiet for a moment, as Maxwell squinted at the yellow line on the road and started to grow accustomed to the cars size.

“...You forgot your glasses, didn't you.” Not even a question, just a sigh from Wilson at the realization, and Maxwell grit his teeth, stubbornly avoiding looking at him.

“There is no one on the road, I can see the bloody road, so I don't believe that matters, now does it?” Before the other man can retort back, which he was already just about to do, Maxwell heaved a sigh, frown on his face as he made himself relax, focus back on the driving part of this mess. “Get some rest, Wilson. I'll make sure we get there just fine.”

That shut the other man up, quiet besides the odd snort and snore from behind his seat, and then Wilson heaved out a heavy breath, Maxwell listening as he scooted and tilted the seat to get comfortable.

“Alright, alright. I'm holding you on your word for that, so be careful.”

With the map relatively simple to read, and road very much not moving about and for the most part easy to follow, Maxwell had no doubt there was nothing to worry about.

It was almost soothing, hearing the other mans breathing ease into sleep. Far too quickly, in his opinion, and Maxwell couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt at that. He shouldn't have slept so long, or at least shouldn't have made Wilson drive for that long like that, especially since he had argued about taking over at the halfway point.

The car's headlights bathed the road in bright, almost amber light, and it certainly was empty, empty feeling and empty of everything else. A few clusters of trees would pass, but for the most part it was flat ground, almost prairie like. The stars shone bright above, the moon having almost reached its fullest behind them, and Maxwell murmured quietly to himself, the stark contrast to being here and not elsewhere sharp and strong.

How long was it going to take, before he can just..let it go.

Not a question, because he knew the answer. What he wouldn't give for this trip to last longer than it was going to.

A few days with modern advancements in the wilderness wouldn't match what he remembered, not in the slightest, but…

He glanced up at the mirror, at his niece, sleeping peacefully against her best friend, at the other little child snoring behind him, clinging to her bag of personal belongings. And it was with no unhappiness that he looked over to the sleeping man beside him, curled up as usual on his seat, still so used to tucking up that even in this environment he hadn't broken the habit, scruffy face not too dissimilar to what he was most able to remember, relaxed and eased in sleep.

Focusing back on the road, squinting at the reflectors as the car passed by, Maxwell sighed.

Well, he wasn't alone. There was that, at the very least.


End file.
